


Witching Hour

by Blackforestfire



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, illegal train riding, it's sweet and cute, the influence of late night adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 02:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12620732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackforestfire/pseuds/Blackforestfire
Summary: There's something almost magical about that time between too late at night and too early in the morning.It's the perfect time to meet a stranger and go on an adventure.





	Witching Hour

You make a lot of mistakes when you’re drunk, the list is literally endless. Your best friend, Jane, tells you almost every weekend that you should maybe put down the drink and pick up a vegetable or something. But you’re in college! You should be having a fun time!

“Jake,” Jane says, her expression a bit worried. “Where are you going?”

You set your drink down and put your hands on your hips. It’s hard to hear her, and you have to almost shout to make yourself heard.

“I’m walking home!”

You’re at an apartment party, a five minute walk away from your own apartment near campus. Jane is here with you because you begged her to keep you company. Maybe you shouldn’t clear off like this, but she has other friends here too so it’s probably fine.

“Jake,” Jane starts, but you wave her off.

“I can walk home, Janey! I’m not so sloshed out of my noggin that I can’t navigate a straight path! I’ll give you a buzz when I’m home.”

She looks uncertain still, but you can see her starting to cave and you know you’ve won.

“I’ll text,” you promise, grinning in what you hope is a reassuring manner. It must be, because she lets you wiggle your way out of the apartment and out into the cool fall night.

You’re not too buzzed to worry about the stairs, but you do grip the handrail pretty hard just in case. On tonight’s list of stupid drunk shenanigans, going to the ER again is not going to be on it.

You get down to the sidewalk and start walking, whistling cheerfully to yourself. It’s a gorgeous night, and you’re pretty pleased about getting away from everybody for a little bit. Sometimes you just want to enjoy the moment.

You’re almost halfway home when you spot what looks like a firefly. The dim, burning little light is over by the train tracks, and you immediately want to catch it.

Without much thought, you go bounding over, feet kicking up rubble and dry grass as you approach. The tracks are behind the apartment complexes that line the road to your campus, and there’s no barrier between them and the rest of the world save for a gravel strip.

You’re on the gravel before you realize that what you’re reaching for isn’t a firefly.

A guy your age is standing there, cigarette dangling from his lips and surprise evident on his face as your hands hover awkwardly a few inches away.

“Oh! Sorry chap, thought your smoke there was a firefly,” you admit, dropping your hands and giving him a bashful smile. Good thing you looked, a burned hand would make Jane pretty mad!

“No worries,” he says, recovering from your sudden appearance. He takes a long drag and then drops it, crushing the tiny light under his heel.

You watch him, intrigued as he exhales a cloud of smoke and checks his watch. “Just out of curiosity, what are you doing down here at this witching hour?”

“Witching, what now?” His head tilts like he can’t figure out why you’re still here.

“It’s late, ol’ boy! And you’re down here by yourself!”

He snorts, a weird smile curling over his mouth. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep, so I’m waiting for the train.”

“Ah.” You’re fast running out of conversation, but gosh darn it you’re going to keep trying! You love meeting odd strangers at even odder hours.

It takes a minute of you giving him hopeful looks before he seems to catch on that you’re not leaving. You take the time to really give him a once over. He’s a funny looking fellow, hair all gelled up despite claiming he was in bed unable to sleep. His sunglasses are even more absurd, pointed triangles resting on the slim bridge of his nose.

“What are you doing down here?” He finally asks, and you beam.

“Catching fireflies.”

“Right.”

You grin, looking around. “So when is this train supposed to get here?”

“Soon,” he says vaguely, checking his watch again.

“Right-o!”

You wonder what Jane will say when you tell her you hung out with a stranger and watched a train pass on your way home. She’ll probably give you one of those patented exasperated Jane looks.

“You do this a lot then?” you ask, gathering some context for your later conversation with Jane.

He shrugs. “Only when I can’t stand to be here anymore.”

You look at him, interested. “Why not? Isn’t it grand to be by yourself out here? In charge of your own life?”

He grimaces. “Not for me, man.”

“So what’s the train got to do with it?”

He shrugs again, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I catch it. Take it out to the fields by that abandon farm and hop off.”

Your mouth is open and your eyes are wide. “You ride the train? Like a real life vagabond?”

Your statement startles a laugh out of this stranger, and he looks at you with a wry smile. “I don’t think that’s very politically correct, but sure.”

“Can I come on this spectacular adventure with you?”

He thinks about it, and then gives you a hard look. “Have you been drinking?”

“I had a couple,” you answer truthfully. “But the buzz is wearing off and I’ve got a hankering for some action.”

“I mean, I can’t stop you man. Just be careful, I don’t want you falling off.”

A wide smile splits your face and the guy you’re becoming fast friends with stares at you and then ducks his head and mumbles something. You’re saved from asking him to repeat himself by the train’s horn splitting the night air.

You both look to see lights flood the track, a freighter chugging towards you. It’s moving a bit faster than you expected, but you spot ladder rails on each cart as it thunders towards you.

“You need to run,” the guy shouts, and then takes off.

You sprint after him, surprised at how fast he’s moving. The train is alongside both of you now, the horn screaming in the air. Your heart beat is pounding and you’re laughing, delighted as you catch up to your new companion.

He reaches out and grabs the ladder, picking up his pace for a split second, and then swinging himself on. It’s such a graceful movement that you almost forget you’re supposed to be doing that too.

He scampers up the ladder and you pick it up a notch, your legs burning as the train gives one last blast of its horn.

You catch the ladder and fling yourself against it. There’s a terrifying second where you are holding yourself up only by your arms, then your feet find a rung and you’re on.

You look up to see him staring down at you, his cheeks flushed with the exertion and a funny little smile on his lips.

You climb up after him, and he moves to sit in the middle of the roof to make room.

“What a rush!” you exclaim, sitting down next to him.

“Just wait, the ride is even better,” he says, sounding more animated than before.

Wind is whipping through your hair and clothes, and your mind is clear as you gaze out at the retreating lights of your apartment.

“My name is Dirk,” he calls, and you drill it into your mind. Dirk. Dirk your new friend.

“I’m Jake!”

“Jake,” he repeats quietly, then offers his fist.

You bump it, delighted, and then lean back on your hands and look out.

It’s dark, but you can see distant towns slipping across the horizon as the train picks up speed. The metal is cold and grounding under your hands, and you’ve sobered up significantly. Dirk is beside you, relaxed and watching the sky overhead.

You look up and feel your heart leap. Now that you’re pulling farther and farther away from civilization, you can see the whole world above you. Stars are popping into the night sky, bright and brilliant against the inky backdrop. You spot a few particularly shiny ones you assume are planets.

“It’s Mars,” Dirk says when he sees what you’re looking at. “Venus is over there.”

You look to see where he’s pointing, and squint. “All looks the same to me, chap.”

“It wouldn’t if we had a telescope. It’s pretty cool.”

“This whole thing is pretty cool! You’re a smart fellow to have figured this out.”

Dirk looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that, and you shoot him a reassuring smile. You don’t want to put him off after showing you such a cool thing!

The train takes you deeper into farm land, you know it well. You used to come out here in the fall to pick pumpkins. You love that your college is in the middle of nowhere, though you know it drives some people nuts. It’s almost like an island to you. A perfect little island where nothing changes.

Dirk lights another cigarette and offers it to you.

You shake your head and he takes a pull of it instead, breathing it out and watching the smoke get snatched away. You feel like you’re on a real adventure, traveling to the unknown with a charismatic stranger who will later be revealed to be royalty or something.

Dirk probably could be royalty, despite his silly glasses. He has a strong jaw, but otherwise delicate features. His hands are long, tapered at the end with nails filed down. He pinches his cigarette between this thumb and index finger, and you think it’s very cool. You know he’s strong, you saw how he pulled himself up, but he’s deceptively thin.

You’re taller though, broad and filled out where he’s lithe and wiry. You wonder if that makes you the peasant boy in this little story.

“Hey,” Dirk says, interrupting your dreaming. “We’re almost there. We gotta jump off, so make sure you tuck and roll. The ground is soft.”

“Capital,” you say excitedly, and Dirk takes another deep inhale and then stubs out his cigarette.

As far as your escapades go, this has got to be the most exciting one yet.

Dirk seems to be into it too, in his own quiet way. His fingers are drumming gently on the metal roof, and he takes his shades off and tucks them in the collar of his shirt.

“Get ready,” he says, and then starts sliding towards the edge of the roof.

You hurry after him, adrenalin pumping.

“Climb down the ladder, and then throw yourself off. Make sure you push really hard, or you’ll get run over,” Dirk instructs as he swings his legs over and starts climbing down.

You nod and watch eagerly.

He gets about halfway down and then curls his body like a spring. You both wait, a tense second, and then he’s gone.

You spot him tumbling down into the grass and you scramble down the ladder too. Okay, bunch up, get your arms ready, and _push!_

You go flying, hitting the ground hard on your side and rolling down a slight incline. You tumble ass over teakettle for a few feet before coming to a rest on your back, glasses miraculously still on.

“Whoa,” you breathe.

“Jake?” Dirk calls, sounding concerned. “You good?”

You stick an arm up and wave, the long grass tickling your nose. “Right here, mate.”

Dirk appears over you, shades back on. “You okay?”

“Never better,” you say a bit breathlessly, but meaning every word. You accept his offered hand and let him pull you up, smiling when you feel how coarse his hands are. Worker hands. You have similar callouses.

Dirk drops your hand and shoves his in his pockets. “So, uh, yeah. Here it is.”

You look around at where ‘here’ is. You’re in a field of long, soft grass that cushioned your fall. You’re surrounded by darkness, broken only by the moon high above you. Far in the distance is the abandon farm Dirk mentioned earlier, though it’s hard to make out.

It’s fantastic.

You tell him so, and he ducks his head.

You set off to explore, and he follows like a shadow. You brush your hands over the stalks of grass, soaking in every second of this.

Up ahead, a small light goes off and then vanishes. More pop up around you, flickering in and out of existence.

Dirk makes a small amused noise. “I guess we found your fireflies.”

“I’m going to catch one,” you announce.

“Careful not to catch a lit cigarette instead,” Dirk teases, and you laugh.

“Oh I don’t know, that worked out pretty well, don’t you think?”

You can’t see his eyes behind those sunglasses, but you get the distinct impression of Dirk staring at you.

“Uh, yeah. Let’s see who can catch one first.”

“A challenge?” You perk up and make a show of rolling up your sleeves. “You’re on, my good sir!”

Dirk shakes his head, grinning slightly, and then jogs off towards a patch of fireflies.

You head off in a different direction, hands cupped and ready. You prowl after one in particular, a tricky little fellow who seems to be on to you. It’s eerie, but in an almost magical way, and you blame it entirely on the witching hour. Everything is quiet save for your own breathing, and these dancing little fire bugs are taunting you.

“Got one,” Dirk calls, breaking the silence, and you swear.

“I think they’re all on to me!”

Dirk walks over, hands closed over something. “Maybe because you announced your intentions to the world.”

“Nonsense, I am very stealthy!”

He opens his hands and you both watch a small glowing bug fly out. “I think mine was just too lazy to fly away.”

You giggle and Dirk looks at you, then frowns.

“What?”

He takes his shades off and narrows his eyes for a second, and then snorts. “Dude, I think you won.”

“What?”

He reaches over and gently coaxes something out of your hair. You both look at the firefly in his palm before it winks its little light and flies off.

“A hitchhiker,” you gasp in mock outrage, and Dirk grins.

“The audacity.”

“The nerve!”

“How very ungentlemanly.”

“The uncouth youth of today,” you say disparagingly, shaking your head, and Dirk laughs.

You like when he does that, even if he immediately looks like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t. You get the funny feeling he doesn’t laugh a lot.

Dirk reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small silver flask. He unscrews the top and takes a sip before offering it to you.

“I thought a chap had to be on the wagon to ride your train,” you say, accepting it anyway. You take a sip and wrinkle your nose at the burn.

“Train won’t be back for a long time.” He takes the flask and takes another drink. “Probably should’ve mentioned that before you followed me out here.”

“I’ve got nowhere to be,” you say truthfully, and Dirk searches your face before handing it back over. 

“Cool.”

You both find a nice patch of grass to sit on and pass the flask back and forth until it’s empty. You know it’s late in the morning, but you don’t know how much time has passed exactly. You go to check your phone only to find its dead. That doesn’t bother you, if anything it makes you feel even better. One less tether to the real world.

“I don’t think I want to go back,” you say conversationally at one point, and Dirk nods.

“It’s better out here. Everything makes more sense.”

“Fancy living out here! I think I’d like that. Might drive me a bit loopy after a bit though,” you add thoughtfully.

“Not me. If I could I’d buy that barn, rebuild it, and stay here until it falls down on top of me.”

You’re a little surprised by the tone and turn to look at your new friend. He’s still got his shades off, and his eyes are downcast.

“A bit dismal of a plan there, Dirk.”

He shrugs, picking a piece of grass and slowly pulling it apart.

You look out at the barn. “I think it would look lovely, all re-done. A nice, red barn. Maybe have some chickens. A garden.”

Dirk looks over at it too. “You think?”

“Absolutely. You could be a modern ol’ McDonald.”

A grin tugs at the corner of Dirk’s mouth. “Yee-haw.”

“And just think how cozy it would be,” you continue, now on a roll. “You could have a big fireplace, lots of warm blankets for the winter. It’s a bit brisk out now and it’s only October! You could get real good and warm in there come January.”

“You should buy a barn next to mine, dude, you’ve got the whole thing planned out,” Dirk jokes, and you give him a smile.

“We could be neighbors!”

“Yeah…” Dirk looks back at the barn. “It would be a nice project.”

You think about the life you just painted in your mind. It sounds very nice, especially the part where you live near your friend. You could spend weekends in the field, chasing fireflies and sharing a drink under the stars.

You really feel like you’re in a story right now, and your perfect ending would be buying a barn next to Dirk’s.

But it’s not, and you watch the image of your bright red barn fade away, leaving behind the dark, slumping structure behind.

Dirk pulls up another piece of grass, knotting it over and over again.

You watch his hands, nimble fingers plucking and pulling the grass into a small tangled mess. He gives up when it breaks, letting it drop and pulling up another piece. It starts again, and you’re mesmerized by it for a short while.

Dirk catches you watching but blissfully doesn’t say anything. You’ve never been able to explain yourself very well, and it’s lead to a few misunderstandings in the past. You don’t know how well he’d take it if you blurted out you think his hands are pretty.

Dirk continues on until he has a small pile of grass on his crossed legs. He eventually brushes it all off and looks up at the sky.

It’s starting to lighten, just barely, and you place the time to be around five or so in the morning.

“Gosh, time whisked right by us,” you say quietly.

“Yeah. Probably have an hour before the train passes by again.”

Only an hour left. You feel each second slipping by, like you’re trying to hold water in your hands. It’s so nice out here, you don’t want to go back.

“Hey,” Dirk starts, and then pauses. He struggles for a moment, hands curling in his lap as you turn to look at him. “Uh, I come out here a lot. I mean, not every night. Just, sometimes. You know. And if you want, you could come? Fuck, I mean it’s not my damn place I don’t own this shit and you can go here whenever. I guess I’m saying we could go here together if you want?”

He’s tripping over his sentences as he tries to shape a question and proposal simultaneously, and it makes you feel light and warm.

“I’d love to, mate,” you say, finally taking pity on him when his words dissolve into high speed mumbling.

“Really? Okay, cool,” Dirk says, words rushing over themselves. “Cool. Yeah.”

“And this time I won’t come flying out of the night at you like some possessed madman! Might even call beforehand.”

“I didn’t mind. But yeah, that would be good. Can I get your number?”

You nod and he hands you his phone. You note that there’s no signal out here, and that the time reads half past five. You add your number in and hand it back. His hand touches yours as he takes it, and you are once again hooked by the feeling of it.

“Your hands,” you begin to say, and Dirk whips his hand away like he’s been burned. “What do you do? You have callouses like mine.”

You hold your hands out, showing the years of work and play that marked and hardened them up.

Dirk peers at them, looking like he wants to touch but isn’t sure he’s allowed to. “I build things. What about you?”

“A lot of accidents when I was little. I am a bit of a rough and tumble fellow.”

Dirk slowly places his hands out next to yours, comparing. His hands are thin, long, and pale under the lightening sky. Your hands are broad, a bit shorter, and dark. He’s got hard spots on his hands like you do, and nice thin scars compared to your jagged marks.

You slowly trace a finger over a line on his palm. “Where’d you get that?”

“Saw,” Dirk mumbles, sounding a bit out of breath. He cautiously touches a finger to a mark on your thumb. “You?”

“Fell off my bike and hit a rock. I’ve got a matching one on my knee.”

You finger moves down to his wrist, pressing into a curved scar that looks relatively new. “And this one?”

“Got pinched between some metal plates a couple weeks ago,” Dirk says.

You can feel his pulse jumping against your fingertip, and you rather like it. You think you rather like all of this, and you trace the little curved mark. It’s pink, almost surgical in appearance, and you wonder what he’d do if you kissed it.

The thought doesn’t startle you, but it makes your finger halt. It’s an odd thought to be having, but tonight has been an odd night. The sky is beginning to turn from inky black to gray dawn, and you know the magic is wearing off. Once sunrise comes you’re back to being Jake English, a nobody. But right now you’re just Jake, and you’re with just Dirk.

He doesn’t pull away when you take his wrist in your hand, and you feel his wide eyes on you as you bring it to your lips.

You kiss the mark, sweet and simple. You hear Dirk let out a shuddering breath, and the heartbeat under your lips begins to race.

You lower his arm and give him a nervous little smile, hoping you read the mood correctly for once in your life.

Dirk is looking at you with something you attribute to the enchantment of this evening. His eyes are bright, like caramel, but it’s hard to pin the exact color.

“Jake,” he says quietly, and your own heartbeat picks up to match his.

Dirk’s leaning towards you, so cautiously, like you might vanish at any second.

But you know time is ticking, and you don’t know when you’ll have a chance like this again. So you lean in to meet him, curling your hand to cup his jaw.

Your lips meet, and you decide that this is the best adventure you’ve ever been on. It’s soft, warm, a direct contrast to the chilly air around you. You feel Dirk shift closer, and you match his movement. You tilt his head gently to deepen the kiss, and he sighs into it.

Hands rest hesitantly on your waist, then more confidently grip your jacket. Dirk’s mouth moves against yours like you have all the time in the world, and it’s far too pleasant to contradict.

Your own hand slides back into his hair, tangling in it as you let him work your mouth open and slip his tongue inside. Your breathing is becoming a bit ragged, and your thoughts are spinning in a happy delirium.

Dirk pulls away first, inhaling shakily, but keeping his hands on you.

You do the same, running your fingers through his hair and savoring the warmth he left behind.

Heat hits the side of your face, and you blink at the sudden light.

You both turn to see the sun start to bleed over the horizon, spreading pink and yellow out across the sky. The spell is broken, and birds begin to sing at the new day.

Dirk’s hands drop and you follow suit, still watching the sun chase away your perfect night.

“We need to get to the tracks,” Dirk murmurs, voice rough.

“Right-o.”

You both gather yourselves and get up, brushing bits of grass and dirt off. It’s a short walk to the tracks, the sky getting brighter with every step.

Another cargo train is ambling towards you, slower than the first. Dirk lets you go first this time, and you manage this ascent with a bit more grace.

Dirk joins you on the roof of the car and slides his shades back on.

The wind against your face is bracing, but the sun warms your face as you head back. During the day the trip is very different. You can see the towns and cities you passed before, now littering the horizon rather than decorating it. The fields are a blur and the stars are gone.

Something touches your hand, and for a second you think it was just the wind. But then it comes back, a barely there pressure, and you’re quick to catch it. Your fingers thread through Dirk’s, and a bit of that magic comes back.

You hold hands until you approach the apartment complexes on the edge of your campus. You both disembark and you even manage to land on all fours rather than on your ass.

Dirk doesn’t take your hand again, but he does wave goodbye when you part ways.

When you get home and plug your phone in you are met with dozens of concerned messages from Jane.  You sigh and type back a vague response, assuring her you’re fine and that your phone died on your way home.

You’re about to go to bed when your phone buzzes again.

Wearily, you pick it up, expecting Jane.

Instead it’s a brief message from an unknown number that says _‘Next Friday, midnight, by the tracks.’_

You beam and send an affirmative, then save the number and crawl into bed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a cute little thing I wrote on a whim one day.   
> I like cute dirkjake, it's a nice break from the turmoil I usually subject them too haha 
> 
> Comments mean the world to me :)


End file.
